Breaking the Habit
by Insanity 101
Summary: 47 die in a fire, a fire that he couldn't stop. Rated for suicide...not sure if it should be higher, so just let me know if you think it should be R. Oneshot.


_Lol, though no one expressed an interest in seeing one (see? I told you no one reads profiles), I am finally writing this. It's a rainy day; this is my excuse. Hopefully you enjoy this...if it's possible to enjoy something like this. But then, who knows? I wrote something I thought was incredibly depressing and my friend found it humorous, so you never know. This was inspired by the song Breaking the Habit, by Linkin Park...so please give it some thought.

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"Uh, Robin? Are you sure you're okay?"

"Please friend, stay here with us! Perhaps we could view a television program, and prepare the corn of popping?"

"I'm fine. Don't feel like a movie. See you tomorrow." He left the room, walking as slowly as possible, to avoid suspicion. He could feel there eyes on the back of his head, but he ignored them. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He didn't want to hear their lies anymore.

Something that might have been relief, if not for the circumstances, tugged at the back of his mind as he heard the door slide safely closed. He was shielded from them, they would never know, they would never see.

The darkness of his room, usually so comforting, seemed to close in around him, suffocating and strangling his exhausted body. Starving for oxygen, he blinked down at his gloves, and saw once again that dark crimson substance, painfully obvious against the bright green. It began to build, growing and growing inside him like some foul wave, eager to crash down over his head, dragging him under and filling his lungs with its taint.

Fire. It raged through the apartment building like a vicious creature hell-bent on destruction. The flames released noxious smoke that billowed skyward, blocking out all else with its darkness. The screams of people on the streets echoed still in his ears, desperate shrieks for a loved one, cries for help. Even as they spoke, another floor collapsed, another life was lost forever.

Maybe if he hadn't hesitated, hadn't wavered for that fraction of a second, things would have been different. Maybe he could have saved them.

He could still feel the cold, harsh breeze on his skin, still see the smoldering mass that was once a home to hundreds of innocent people. He stood frozen as the firefighters and police swarmed all over the wreckage, uncovering body after body, some too disfigured to identify by sight alone. Women, children, fathers, mothers. All of them, lost forever. All because of his failure.

He choked, desperate for air but unable to find any. His head was spinning, his thoughts a jumbled mess of pain. It was becoming too much...he couldn't take it much longer...

He remembered the faces, remembered each and every one of them with horrible clarity. The little girl, almost free of burns, who had been crushed beneath a fallen plank. He could still feel her cold little body as he desperately pressed his hands to her chest, fighting back tears as he tried to save a life that had extinguished long ago. He was too late, 47 lives too late.

His feet carried him into the bathroom, his hands reaching for a small drawer, pulling it open, and pushing the contents aside to reveal the sharp glint of metal. He rotated it slowly in his hand, watching the light shift and swirl on its cold surface.

This wasn't the only time he had failed. With an unbearable surge of pain, he recalled the highschool shooting, the rape and murder of Sarah White, a teenager not much older than himself, the old woman beaten to death in her own home. In all of these cases, he had been just a little too late, just a little too slow to keep their hearts beating, just a little too far behind to stop the obscene crime that ended in that final breath. Each time, he had tried and failed, failed at something he couldn't afford to lose. Why couldn't the bullets have pierced his heart? Why couldn't the blows have fallen on his head? Why couldn't he save them?

He watched in a surreal state as the blade descended on his wrist, not too close to the vein, but close enough to cause blood to flow down his arm and drip into the sink. Insantly a surge of...relief? Release? Whatever it was, it somehow numbed the pain, quieted the thoughts, if only to a dull roar. Burning shame nawed at him as he watched his blood drip onto the white porcelain. This was cowardly, weak, selfish, idiotic. But there was no other choice. This was his method of living.

The first wave of pain hit, searing in his veins, screaming through him, and it was welcomed. The pain was a distraction, something to block out the shrieking in his head. He felt the room spin beneath him, and clutched the counter for support, his heart beat echoing in his ears, each pulse ringing with the sound of a gunshot. He vaguely realized that this time, he had gone too far...but somehow, that didn't seem to matter anymore.

He had thought himself free of it, thought that somehow, doing this would change the past, alter the future. Harming himself would bring life to them once more. It didn't.

Look what he had done to his city. Look at the pain he had caused it's people, so dear to him that they almost felt like family. Look at the pain he had caused his team. He cringed as their faces floated before his eyes; Starfire's usually bright and cheerful smile missing, a worried frown in its place; Beast Boy utterly still, not a word escaping his frozen lips; Cyborg unusually gentle, a hint of what might be fear darkening his light gray eyes; and Raven... He blinked back tears as Raven's face appeared before him, a look of pain and anxiety clear in her deep purple eyes. That face was the one that hurt the most.

He knew that they wouldn't understand, knew that they wouldn't realize that he had done this for them. He did it to protect them, to bring back the happiness that he had chased away, to allow them the chance to live, to succeed, to move forward. Just because his road ended here didn't mean theirs should stop, too.

He groaned quietly as his legs gave out, a vague pain pulsing through him as his head collided with a cold tile floor. Blood had spattered the counter as it flowed in an ever-quickening torrent from his heavily scarred wrist. His mind was fading faster and faster, thoughts and images becoming harder and harder to grasp...with an urgency that he did not fully understand, he forced his arm to reach into the folds of his uniform, feeling the old and worn paper beneath his fingertips. With the last of his strength, he slipped it out, gripping it in steadily weakening fingers. They needed to know...he couldn't leave without telling them... Raven...Raven would understand. Raven knew, somehow he was sure she knew. The thought of her brought a wave of fear to his disengaging mind...he was afraid of leaving her...afraid of what would come next. A nagging feeling that might have been regret pushed at the back of his thoughts...but it was too late for that now.

It was a horrible feeling, that of a slowing heartbeat. His life, far from flashing before his eyes, was fading away, lost in the swirling black. An overwhelming numb engulfed his body, taking away the pain and the thoughts of his friends, removing the bad and stealing the good from what was left of his life. His last thought, last breath, was spent with these words, something he had so often said, something that had never been good enough:

"I'm sorry."

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"Where ya goin', Rae?" asked Cyborg, looking up in surprise as Raven suddenly stood, her book held against her chest. His eyes were weary, his body slightly slumped with fatigue...and regret.

"I need to meditate," she replied automatically, knowing it would be too difficult to describe the strange feeling of unease that was plaguing her mind. "See you later."

"Um...Okay...see you later then." She heard his words faintly as the door slid shut behind her.

The corrider was dark, an eerie glow emanating from the small nightlights placed every few feet along the walls. She fought to remain calm as the strange feeling increased, her heartrate speeding up along with it. Raven knew without a doubt where she was headed.

The light was switched off, shadows seeming to gather around her as she entered. She felt slightly guilty for entering Robin's room without his permission...but the feeling wouldn't go away, and she couldn't rest until she had reassured her mind. Seeing that he was not in the bedroom, she turned slowly to the small bathroom door, closed. The feeling reached a stomach-turning crescendo...something about that door sent a shiver of fear running up and down her spine, paralyzing her body. With a quivering hand, she reached out and knocked lightly. No one answered.

"Robin?" Her voice was barely a whisper, small and weak as it had never been before. Still there was no reply.

_"You're jumping to conclusions. He's fine, he probably just fell asleep or something. Stop being ridiculous."_ But her senses were saying something different. Hesitantly, as though it might burn her, she reached for the door knob, and gently twisted...only to find it locked. _"He's fine. Nothing's wrong, he's fine."_ Panic welled up in her chest, constricting her air passages and making oxygen difficult to come by. Dreading something that she couldn't define, Raven melted through the door, and found herself in the small, crampedbathroom. At first, everything looked normal...Then she saw him. Lying in a heap on the floor, unmoving. A shaky hand reached for the light switch...

"No...No...Robin..." Her mind froze over. This wasn't possible, how could this happen? Not Robin, not their fearless leader and loving friend. Not the person who laughed with them after watching a scary movie, not the one who smiled so gently at her, as though he knew she needed it. He would never do something like this..._Never..._

Painful tears poured from her eyes as she fell to her knees beside him, taking his uninjured wrist to feel for a pulse that she knew wasn't there. As she took his hand, gentle and loving, something slipped through his cold fingers. Trembling hands reached down, picked up the small piece of paper, and unfolded it with all the tender care of someone handling a newborn bird.

_Friends,_

_If you're reading this, I'm probably already gone. I could never rest knowing that I had failed to tell you this: that I love each and every one of you, more than you could ever know, that I would do anything for you, no matter what the cost, even if it means giving up my own life, and that I will always be with you, no matter what. Please, know that always, no matter what happens, no matter what your life may bring, I'll be there. I'm so sorry for the pain that I have caused you, but please know that this is for the best, this is for you. Beast Boy, don't ever stop trying to make them laugh, no matter how hard Raven glares at you. Starfire, never lose faith in the goodness within each and every person you meet. Cyborg, don't ever give up, you can take them. And Raven...you are never alone._

_Don't forget me. I won't forget you. -Robin_

Useless tears spattered the page, blurring and distorting his words. He was wrong...now, she was truly alone.

* * *

_Technically, it wasn't a suicide. He didn't plan on killing himself...he just went too far. The note was not a suicide note, but a loving goodbye should he ever fall in battle (a lot more likely for him to die than any of them). So...uh...hopefully you liked it...er well, um...so yeah, just tell me what you think. -Dusty_


End file.
